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By Light or Crow
Suns’ Blessings Tired footsteps ring hollow through a shadowy forest, the roots of the ground floor giving way to a quagmire below. The breath he draws is cold – almost frozen, and the exhalations create a screen of blinding frost outwards. Stumbling forward and leaning upon a tree that feels oddly soft he stops to catch his breath. Weary eyes glance upon the ground as it becomes illuminated by a soft purple hue. There comes a terrifying sound; a cry of unknown origin rings through the trees…a screech that shakes the man at his core. Through the shroud of the brush a terrifying beast with hundreds of eyes and tendrils each made of fear emerges and coils the man in wrappings of pure terror. (Nice sentence.)He cannot scream. There is no voice with which to scream. Produced below the beaming eyes lies a jaw with rows of jagged, rotten teeth and a prehensile tongue swaying carelessly that spraying miasmic saliva. He is pulled into the gaping maw of the beast and sent reeling into darkness…after an eternity there the cacophony of screams crescendos to an ear-piercing loudness. Belinus awakens in his bed, terrified, cold, and nauseated. He turns over and vomits profusely onto the floor of the inn in which he rested and tries catching his breath through dry heaves and yaks. The sun has not yet risen, and it seems as though the frightened former noble would surely be awake to see it so. Exhausted and confused from the nightmare, he moves from his bed hours later as the morning begins. The dawn sky was emblazed with the fiery hues of orange, splashed like paint across a dark red canvas; as if the gods themselves had drawn it. Through fogged lenses his weary eyes pierced the veil of sunlight before him. “Today is the festival of the sun…isn’t it?” He thought, wearily. “Mayhaps a bit of celebration could deter my melancholy…if only temporarily.” He dons a black, tattered cloak to hide his appearance and removes himself from the inn in which he had resided for the past night. The streets are overly crowded this time of year, as all sorts of denizens and visitors move in congested crowds full of life and jubilance. The scent of seared meat and burning oak fill the air amongst the sound of clamor and clanging made by those attending the city for the festival. (Good imagery!)Moving amongst the hustle and bustle of the crowded city streets, Belinus’ eye is caught by a shop containing several musical instruments. Quietly, he says to himself “A trip to a local musicians’ shop to replenish my supply of instruments could help. I itch to feel the strings beneath my fingers again. To remember the song of my youth that so far has eluded my happiness.” And thus he did exactly that. Upon entering the festival he found himself surrounded by a…colorful cast of characters to say the least. Belinus set up in a shaded corner and practiced the tunes of his formative years while others convened…the combination of culture shock and the reeling nightmare of last night was almost too much and he crumbled under the weight of his own mind. The strings he plucked calmed him, however, bringing a sense of clarity back to the chaos that was his psyche. Notes hung sweetly in the air, suspended by the chokingly humid summer atmosphere. Suddenly, a deep and troubling voice rang as Belinus finished playing one piece and reached for another instrument. “Why is it you produce music?” Sitting cross legged before him was a man, tall and shirtless clad in black tattered pants and riddled with scars. His face was pale and almost skeletal in structure…at least painted in such a way as to appear so. Darkened, his eyes bore down upon Belinus as he struggled for an answer. “I suppose…it brings me back to a simpler time.” “How?” Belinus was skeptical of the man before him, his calculating stare still burning forward. “Well…there are moments of my past that I’m still attempting to…secede from...do you truly wish to know?” He is unsure of why he had even said this. What about this strange individual relayed the idea of self-disclosure? He did not know, there was no logical answer. The man gave a subtle nod, to which the ex-aristocrat gave a light summary of his happenstance. “It certainly would be a shame” the man said, standing up and shifting slightly “if it were a follower of Unquala, or perhaps a member of the laughing skulls, who were responsible.” “Why is that?” The man’s head turned and bore into him again with those darkened eyes “Because you do not wish to be on the wrong side of either.” Belinus realized that this man is likely part of one of these factions…and un''likely a skull… “I suppose that may make us mortal enemies then, stranger. But it was never my intention to become the sins of my father, nor provoke those with whom I should not.” “And that is how fate must have it.” Scoffed the man. With a cold and callous expression, he continued: “Why not power? Why not coin? Just music to bring you comfort?” A small tear welled up in Belinus’ eye, who quickly averted his glance and chokingly spat “Because…music brings me to a time before vengeance was all that mattered.” He wondered for a second why he’d be so open with a complete stranger, but the man disappeared before he could look back to complete the thought. Perplexed he took a moment to gather his thoughts...and realized that the cathartic release was something he desperately needed. A small weight was lifted, but replaced with a bit of concern for relaying the information to a total stranger - especially one of such…frightening aura. “Maybe I should just let this wait…for one more day” Belinus said aloud, to none but himself in a hushed voice “Just partake in the festival to realign my head before pressing onward.” In all the festivities he was caught amongst the intoxicating environment and, for just a few fleeting moments, forgot his worries and enjoyed the company of others. He danced, played song, sang, and ingested the local foods and drink of which he had gone several years without. Truly, it was a jubilant experience juxtaposed against the harshness of the past 24 hours. As the sun fell and gave rise to a crescent moon, he reflected on that strange encounter with the skull-faced man and decided to pursue his first lead – The notorious Laughing Skulls. “Honor” Amongst Thieves A wayward gaze into the black sky speckled by pinholes of light no longer filled his heart with joy as it had used to. Behind him lay the body of a vagrant – one whose life no longer proved of use to him; the cold steel of his axe dripping with the essence of the exsanguinated body shone brilliantly in the moonlight. What was recovered was a dagger of peculiar make. The handle was curved and an insignia depicting a skull with laughing teeth was emblazoned upon the blade. He turned over the weapon and its full peculiarity flashed in the moonlight. “It seems as though I’ve found a trinket of whom I search for” Belinus thought, as he cloaked the dagger away safely. Days turned into weeks as he searched every god forsaken hold up of lowlife charlatans he could find amongst the cover of night. Using a combination of cunning, intimidation, and coin, he turned from one lead to the next in attempts to track down the general and leader of the Laughing Skulls until he finally gleaned a clue… The shacked houses lined a grime-filled street, creaking and churning as if alive in the night with the anguished wails of the unfortunate souls that resided within them. Oil lanterns illuminated trash piled upon the curb of the street and flickered the shadows of rats that moved in and out of their path. “Never have I seen such a place, disparaged by poverty of this extreme” He pondered, almost tripping over a pile of trash. Not that he had much of a perception of which to compare this experience to; he was never allowed in areas such as this in his former life. A slightly rotted wooden sign with wrought iron edges was set upon a larger building just in the distance. The stained glass windows were brightly illuminated by the lanterns inside, with the shades of human figures flickering on the walls. A low hum of activity rang through the air, and Belinus tightly gripped the handle of his axe beneath his cloak whilst standing just a few yards outside. The door flew open and a few skulls members took a walk outside, laughing and howling into the night…presumably intoxicated. The former aristocrat followed behind and quickly approached them as they walked a street away from the inn. “Good evening, gentlemen.” The noble plainly stated, stepping out of the darkness to cross their path; his face enshrouded by the cowl upon his head, cast into shadow by a nearby lantern. They ended their conversation and kept silent, staring at Belinus. There were three of them, one large, muscle-bound man missing several teeth in the center, a fatter one to the left, and a shrew of a man to the right in leather armor. “I can see we are not ones for words, but I do have a question” piped the noble. “Spit it out, ye nancy!” this retort was fired from the larger of the 3 that stood before him, his face riddled with scars and arms folded tightly in annoyance. “we ain’t got the time a night.” Though they could not see it, Belinus smiled underneath his cowl and in a smarmy tone asked “Ah, is that any way to treat a fellow skull?” They looked at each other and laughed “Well, looks like we got an impersonator! I think I’d recognize my own, lad” spouted the large man, pulling a longsword off his hip and extending it to Belinus’ face. The other two shouted and reveled in laughter and insults as this happened. Belinus reached towards his chest, causing the thug to swing back his blade into a position ready to strike. “Looks may be deceiving…” whispered the noble with an air of confidence. A small, bloodstained dagger bearing the symbol of the notorious clan was produced and flashed in the light of a nearby lantern. The vagrants were taken aback and a short pause ensued. “I nevah seen you before! Why’s it all bloody anyways? I hear a lot of our men have been killed lately, how do we know you ain’t just a murderer?!” spouted the scrawnier man on the right “Suppose I’d have to be” Said Belinus with a sigh and shrug “to be a part of the Skulls, would I not? Besides…” Belinus lowered the knife as he said this, silently unhooked his axe from his hip with his other hand underneath his cloak, and with a sharp tone stated “''Death is a funny thing.” Before the men had time to react Belinus buried his axe in the larger man’s neck. He slumped to the ground, deceased immediately and just as the fatter man on the left could attempt to arm himself, he too was cut down with a swift spin and a chop to the chest. Belinus, his face now exposed by the hood of his cowl thrown back looked directly into the eyes of the third man, terrified but ready to fight. He withdrew his blade and sent an upward slash at Belinus, which was parried by the knife in his left hand. The noble threw a chop at the bandit’s midsection who just narrowly dodged it by leaping backwards. A quick sweeping strike downward came towards Belinus, who took it grazing across the face, just leaving a small incision on his cheek. The noble seized his opportunity to catch the skull off-guard by taking a lunge forward, using the momentum of his last strike, and throwing a hard punch with his left hand, also cutting the skulls’ cheek. The charlatan stumbled backwards into a wall, and Belinus swung hard at his weapon to disarm him of his blade. Now, held at knifepoint with one of his clan’s own weapons, the skull begged for mercy. “I shall spare you, vagrant. All I need is information.” Extorted from the man was the leader of the clan’s name – Shamus Stormcrow ''and his general whereabouts. The man was spared in exchange for his information, but at a terrible price. With the weapon of his own clan was his tongue severed so as not to warn of Belinus’ coming. The shrew’s severed organ was wrapped in cloth and taken by the Noble – it will be an interesting gift for the leader once he finds him. The bloodied aristocrat donned a few more pieces of the fallen rogue’s clothing and armor as a disguise to explore their territory easier, and set off on a new destination. The snitch had informed Belinus on how to gain entrance into Daggerwood, and the lair of the skulls. Lair of the Red Devil Several days passed in preparation – constructing maps from scratch of the bandits’ directions, grabbing supplies, and meditation were all necessary in this time. Belinus was about to journey into a forbidden land, a land of which hosted scores of malevolent creatures prepared to eat him alive at a moment’s notice. The paths set by the snitch he silenced supposedly wrought a route through which to avoid the creatures that inhabit the forest in which he was about to enter. Looking along the darkened tree line, Belinus took one last breath at the edge of sanity and exhaled sharply… He marched forward into the unknown. The floor was wet, and almost constantly tangled in roots. There were no paths in this forest, only trees. Countless horrendously tall trees with thick branches and leaves shaded the midday sun in an enveloping darkness for the nobleman. He proceeded cautiously and lit a torch with a flint before moving ahead. Unearthing a compass and the map he had drawn, the man began to follow the path described by the quieted laughing skull bandit that he de-tongued. The moss-covered trees left a thick, heavy scent in the air of decay and growth. It was eerily silent in these woods. Making a few more turns he stomped directly into a thick patch of mud several feet deep that bore his boots into the earth. The sudden lurch forward caused his torch to fall and extinguish in the mud patch before him. Belinus uprooted his feet and stood up but leaned on a tree to gasp a breath as the mud was thick and tiring to remove from. He must have been traveling for hours now, feeling as though no ground was gained. There was no turning back, even if he wanted to, he must forge forward unto darkness. Tripping forward, he caught himself on a thick root of an old tree and noticed…something peculiar. The ground began to glow with a purple hue and it filled Belinus not only with unknown fear…but with unsettling Deja-vu. The Noble lifted his head to the sound of a high pitched and terrifying screech which made him soon realize: “That wasn’t a dream those few weeks ago…''it was a premonition” Turning tail and sprinting away was the only option. If that abomination truly existed, it licked the heels behind Belinus, ready to engulf him in terror and insanity. Weaving in and out of the trees, he narrowly avoided tripping over roots entangled below; the nobleman’s adrenaline carried him to safety. He finally stopped and slumped against a mossy tree and realized it must have been night, for the he had grown weary eyed from many hours of travel. He found a small patch clearing and set up camp. He had not much room to pack more than a small bedroll upon his back and some dried meat for sustenance – though his appetite was sapped anyhow. Rest did not come easily, but it was necessary if he was to press forward. Belinus realized now that where he had camped was actually one of the many sites set up by the skulls to ward off the creatures of the forest. He was fortunate to have landed in such a spot, for now he understood his bearings and could travel relatively safely through the rest of the forest. Several hours passed hopping between clearings in the trees that provided him safety through the forest. The noble finally felt as though he was pushing forward…until accidentally activating a trap laid by the bandits to cease just such an incursion. His leg was snared and he was hoisted in the air violently, trapped in a net upside-down. Before he could attempt to reach for a knife to cut himself down, a narcotic tipped dart pierced his back. Vision faded, nausea ensued, and the noble was fast unconscious… A rush of cold water and a swift kick to the stomach awoke him. Belinus coughed and took a look around the room to realize he’d be secured to a chair with all his belongings several feet from him sprawled out onto a wooden table. The room was dimly lit and he could barely make out the man before him, clad in leather shoulder pads, blackened clothing, and a skull mask covering the majority of his face. “WHO SENT YOU” the man shouted, with spewing hatred. Belinus fell silent, staring directly into the eyes of his assailant. A hard punch was delivered upon his cheek quickly thereafter. “WHO FUCKING SENT YOU?!” He grabbed Belinus by the shoulders and shook him violently. “That implies I was sent, does it not?” He answered through bloodied teeth. “Bullshit, there’s no way you could have even gotten as close as you did without outside sources. Who. Sent. You.” “Does the pride of the Lion stay strong while their leader does? Or are they weakened by a wounded cub?” The man cocked his head to one side. “What in the hell are you talking about? You can’t be some random loony who wandered near the compound.” He began to pace about the room, his figure morphing in and out of the dim light. “Was it the council? Hm? No…no those pricks know better than to send one here. You a bounty hunter? None so competent have even come close to finding this place so I doubt it…One of those fucking Darkmoons? I’ve told Sinthaster a thousand times –“ “I come alone. Of my own volition.” Belinus interrupted. The man came close to Belinus’ face “look, pal. I’m not here to play some guessing game with you. You can fess up who sent you here, or I’ll cut your eyes out.” “I fear not death nor your hand. This cowardly display you’ve set by binding me, in fact, only tells me you’re even more of a low life than your miserable lackeys I disposed of getting here. So tell me, does the pride’s strength rely on the lion or their cubs?” The man’s eyes lit into fury, and he plowed Belinus over with hands gripped on his throat, throttling the Noble and slamming his head into the ground repeatedly while shouting: “I’M NOT HERE FOR GAMES YOU INCORRIGIBLE BASTARD!” “BOSS!” Shouted another man from the corner “BOSS! Take it easy, come look at this.” The skull stood up, breathing heavily and still peering into the eyes of their infiltrator. He walked slowly over and convened at the table of Belinus’ belongings. The bandits had, unfortunately, not searched Belinus fully since he had the skulls dagger hidden in his boot. The fall in combination with their attention drawn away gave the noble enough cover to move the weapon into his hands. A few whispers were exchanged and the first skull walked over to Belinus, hoisted him and the chair back up, and held a gaze with him at point blank. “Where the FUCK did you get this?!” He held up the map of the safe areas amongst Daggerwood and the severed tongue. “It’s interesting,” Belinus said heavily “…what a man will tell you when he’s inches from his life. He can say even less without a tongue. You should thank me for silencing a snitch” The man’s face churned in slight disgust beneath the skull mask he wore “A squealer? Meh. It’s impossible to find good help these days...You’re ruthless but there’s no way that you came here of your own. Now if you don’t tell me who and who you work for I’ll FEED YOU TO THE FUCKING WOLVES!” “I’m not surprised the Red Devil himself is so forthcoming.” Belinus smirked and said “why don’t we discuss who you are Shamus Stormcrow” Shamus was mildly perplexed. “oooh good job, ya know who I am. So does every other wanna-be criminal and enemy of mine ‘round Larkenvale. You of which, bear none of their colors. Even though you had a great attempt at looking the part of a skull.” Said shamus, pointing at the tattered disguise on the table behind him “Just what in the hell are you even wearing ''anyways? What is that a…fucking curtain?” The man in the back snickered with his arms folded, leaning on the table “These are the vestiges of my fallen house, the noble wrappings of-” “Yeah I don’t care. How in the hell did you get this map?!” He shouted, backing away and throwing it in Belinus’ face. “Come closer, it is hard to speak so loudly after you choked me so violently” rasped the noble, All the while cutting the rope behind him Shamus rolled his eyes and got very close to the Noble “Is this better?” Shamus said, condescendingly. “''almost.” A swift headbutt disoriented them both and the Noble stood up and grappled Shamus. They wrestled for a second but Belinus took the upper hand and held him at knife point from behind – dagger on throat. The other skull unsheathed a sword off his hip and started advancing “One more move and your glorious leader I will slice ear to ear.” “Grey Doom!” Shamus Shouted “Don’t you move. I’d like to keep my head” The skull grunted and nodded “Okay you prick, what do you want? Gold? A contract? Women? I know plenty of brothels, one of-“ “Information. Possibly your life.” Belinus responded coldly. “3 years ago my family home was invaded and father murdered by assassins. Highly skilled assassins. Ones that could take out a swathe of trained guards in silence. They sold my mother and me into-“ “Ugh. Spare me your life story” Belinus jerked and pushed the blade even harder against his throat “Okay, okay. Shit. Fine I’ll listen.” “Thank you. We were sold into slavery and her whereabouts I still do not know. I am unsure of where we were even kept at that time. My home was ransacked when I returned several years later. I need to know – who could have done this? Who could have ended the Life of Belinus Ceol I?” “Ceol? Shit, you mean that asshole who ran the Patrician’s Collective? There were plenty of bounties out for his head, kid.” “''And were you the one to collect?”'' “We couldn’t get it! Kid, you better believe I’d be sitting pretty with that kind of money from such a high end contract. I hear those posh assholes who run the council have their own syndicate that covers that lucrative of business.” “And why should I trust you?” “Hahaha. You can’t. But you have a fucking knife at my throat so go ahead and believe whatever you need to.” “Point taken. But what honor is there amongst thieves? I need to track down whoever did this.” “Maybe you could start by…paying closer attention!” Belinus hadn’t realized this whole time Shamus was also slowly unsheathing his dagger, and he stabbed the noble in the thigh before he could react. Belinus let go his grip and they stood, eye to eye and dagger to dagger. “I know how much you skulls love to fight with knives” Belinus said “But I have an interesting proposition” The noble said, holding a finger in the air as to say ‘hold on’ “Really? You invade my lair and try to parley me? No, you die here noble scum.” Shamus launched a flurry of attacks at Belinus while screaming at the top of his lungs. Belinus had a hard time matching the ferocity but was able to keep the leader at bay. A few good slices got the noble on his arms but nothing to deter him completely. They fought for several minutes back and forth, only clipping each other’s clothes and skin until the two were horribly out of breath and bloodied. “You’re…a bastard…” Shamus said between heavy breaths “…likewise” exhaled Belinus “We…weren’t…the ones…who got the…contract” “Then I need…information…from you…on who probably did.” Shamus took a huge breath “It would follow that if they council wanted your father to be eliminated from his long standing run…they’d find a way to do it. Surely there is a grotesque, corrupt agenda those pricks are all gearing towards. It’s only rumors and speculation but I’ve heard they have a few highly trained assassins that work on eliminating high end targets.” “any idea on who they are?” “What, you don’t? I figured with your aristocratic bullshit you’d have tons of connections.” “As if I could even approach any of those who I knew on the council before. I could barely reveal my identity in my home city for fear of elimination. Truly, if it was anyone I knew previously they’d want me dead on sight.” “You’ve got a point.” “So you have any ideas?” “Not exactly, but this organization is likely the one who pulls all the strings behind the political power in most, if not all, of Larkenvale. Again, this is all through the grapevine but it would make sense as to why your old man got offed. I heard house Ceol was into some lucrative shit, and likewise your pops probably held too much power longer than some wanted. I fucking hate politics. Bunch of slimy assholes taking all the good jobs from us and all the fucking gold, too!” “It seems we may have a common enemy, Sir Stormcrow.” “Don’t…don’t call me that. Anyways yeah. So it seems…and you are?” “Belinus Dobhriste Ceol II. Tracking down this group will likely strengthen your bandit crew’s foot hold in the region. In exchange for my services and stake in the investigation, I ask for solace, supplies, and any information your guild can obtain.” “Oh? And what do I get in return for your ‘services’” “The two things all nobility has and all low-lives want. Coin and power” “Haha! Well now you’re speaking my language! I know one place we can start – one big event that draws thousands across the region, especially those of the highest class. “And what is that?” “''The Tournament of Champions.”'' Category:Character lore